From Finland southwards to the Chersonese;
Or that mine armies eastwards (like the tide
O’er low-laid littorals) flood all the steppes
From Caucasus to Khiva, till no khan
But dreads, and hopes, and dreams, and thinks of me.
How fruitless are my efforts! I have given
Unasked, with hand unstinting. I have risked
Defection of my nobles, that my poor
Might rise and bless me. But unshamed they crave
For ever more concessions, till I see